Boo Who?

This post may draw some fire, but I think it's worth taking a chance.  As a child, I have pleasant memories of Halloween - trick or treating, swapping candy with my siblings and cousins and watching scary movies.  However, as a grown-up, I've struggled with a holiday that glorifies gore and evil.  As a Christian, I have wavered on whether I should take part in Halloween celebrations, ignore them or somehow modify them to be unscary but still fun.

I live in an ugly, violent world and Halloween could be a way to glorify all this.  While it's tempting to hide away and isolate myself from all the spookiness, I have found something worth trying.  Getting Booed....

The concept is simple, go to www.BeenBooed.com, print out the "You've Been BOO-ed" poem and graphic and leave it with a sweet treat on some unsuspecting neighbor's front door.  There's no ulterior motive.  There's no plea to join a church.  There's no position one way or the other of whether I'm promoting Satan's work on the most sacreligious of holidays.  But there is something....

For the first time in a while, I am seriously contemplating leaving a secret treat to unsuspecting neighbors that I have never taken the time to connect with.  I am expanding my horizons and looking at who in my community I could "BOO" since it's totally anonymous.  It certainly is not evangelism, but who's to stop me from praying for my neighbor as I leave their treat? Who's to stop me from doing something kind?  What can stop me from giving something fun and joyful to a complete stranger with no strings attached?

Check it out for yourself.  There's no loaded message.  But there is a way that I can pass on joy, kindness and to be a blessing during a holiday that already knows too much salty, scary, gory, ugliness.

Sunday Lonely Sunday

It would have been a strange request a year ago.  My friend, a faithful woman, with a strong legacy of children and grandchildren in church, is someone worth listening to.  So, when she asked if she and her husband could sit alongside me to help me with my children in church, surprisingly, I was not offended.

Was it because my kids do somersaults on the pews and sing the fart song instead of the doxology?  Was it because I was somehow incompetent or worthy of someone else's pity?  Absolutely not.  As my friend explained, she felt led by the Holy Spirit that this was something she should ask me.  Remarkably, instead of giving into guilt or pride and trying to "hold it together" and "do-just-fine-by-myself-thank-you", I said, "That would be lovely, thank you."

It was a little awkward in the beginning that first Sunday.  My kids weren't sure why "they" were here with us, but I just explained that "they" were friends that wanted to sit with us.  It sure was handy when my oldest boy had to go to the bathroom and I didn't have to let him fend for himself and hope he came back within five minutes.  If I needed to take someone out of the sanctuary for correction, I could leave the other kids in the watchful care of my friends.

As the service progressed, I had two, wiser, experienced coaches, gently guiding my children in the way of worship.  I didn't feel bad, or ashamed or embarrassed.  As I looked merely a few pews ahead to see their own grandchildren with their own parents, I knew that what I was being given was a true gift - the gift of family.

My secret confessional is that Sundays, for a long time, have been one of the loneliest days for me.  It's quite the paradox, actually.  I've got kids with me, tons of acquaintances to meet and greet and yet Sundays seemed like a cruel hoax.  I do not have extended family nearby and my husband does not share my faith.  So, as everyone gathers around to enjoy family time after church, I am sorely reminded that I'm on my own.

I don't know if my friend truly knows how much she has blessed me.  I know also that the Holy Spirit guided me to this place, preparing a heart that would have otherwise been offended, ashamed and embarrassed.  Amazingly, my friend does not feel sorry for me.  She said, "Please don't take anything that I say as a criticism.  I applaud you for bringing your kids each Sunday and doing it on your own.  I just want to be here because I love you."

So there you have it.  I don't go to a cool church.  I have inherited an amazing church family.